Fated for Her Wolves - Tara West Page 0,76

first Amara was hearing of this. Why hadn’t Raz told her? The old medicine woman was stubborn, but this was preposterous. Was she too proud to accept Amara’s help? “But the tribe needs Raz.”

“For what?” Setting down his empty cup, Tor wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Her healing potions are nothing compared to your skills.”

Amara didn’t know what to say. She’d never before felt guilt about her healing gift, but she did now. She’d rendered Raz useless. The medicine woman, with all her stinky potions, and her mates were giving up on life.

“We need her wisdom,” Rone said, giving her a sympathetic look. He knew she felt responsible for the old people. She’d felt his presence in her mind earlier.

“They have passed on their wisdom to their children and their grandchildren,” Tor said. “They want to go to Valhol with the ancients, where they can run as young wolves again.”

Hakon rubbed his thick beard. “We should go and pay our respects.”

Tor held up a staying hand. “They’ve asked us to leave them alone while they prepare for the elder Spiritcaller’s passing. They wish to spend their final moments with their children.”

Amara’s heart plummeted. “Okay.”

Tor gave her a long look. “This has nothing to do with you, Amara. Don’t take it personally.”

Was she wearing her emotions on her sleeve? She screwed up her face, doing her best to conceal her despair, but she feared she came off as severely constipated instead. Raz had been like a grandmother to her, kind and patient with just a touch of stubborn, much like her sweet Grandma Miller, the woman who’d raised her until her sudden death, causing Amara’s world to implode. She’d lived in either foster care or with her abusive mother after that. Though it wasn’t Grandma’s fault she’d had a stroke, Amara had still felt abandoned, and she couldn’t help feeling Raz was deserting her, too.

Drasko came in, his long hair pulled back in a single braid down his back, an armful of chopped wood pressed against his bare chest, jeans hanging low on his hips. He looked like one of those brawny men on the cover of a western romance novel, an eyeful of man candy. If she wasn’t in such a sour mood, she’d beg him to take her upstairs and have his way with her, bloated belly and all.

“Any news about Luc?” he asked, setting the logs beside the fire.

“Yes, actually.” Tor beamed. “Johnson called. Luc’s mission was a success. He didn’t have time to call after his debriefing, but he’s on his way home. He should be here tonight.”

Amara’s heart pounded so loudly in her ears, she could scarcely hear herself think. Clasping her hands to her chest, she jumped from her seat and gave Tor a hug. “Thank you!” she said, knowing he wasn’t responsible for Luc’s return, but feeling the need to thank him anyway.

He grunted, then patted her shoulder.

“Awesome!” Rone leaned over the counter and gave her a high five.

“Papa Luc’s coming home!” Alexi squealed, running in circles around his half-finished log cabin.

Amara clutched the counter when the floor shook. The dogs howled. Tor and Hakon swore. The floor stopped shaking when Alexi stopped running, looking at them like an elk who’d caught his mate’s scent.

“Alexi, look what you did!” Hrod cried when their log cabin tumbled to the ground.

Amara was just relieved the babies were safe in their playpen and nothing in the house had been broken. They’d learned long ago to secure all valuables and get locks for their cabinets.

“Sorry.” Alexi shot Drasko and Hakon a worried look, his bottom lip trembling. “I didn’t mean it.”

“Alexi, remember what we told you?” Drasko scolded as he knelt beside the fire and stacked wood that had tumbled from the hearth.

“It was an accident, Papa.” Alexi sniffled, wiping his nose on the back of his sleeve. “I swear.”

Of all her children’s magical abilities, Alexi’s was the most lethal. He could summon an earthquake big enough to shake the entire reservation if he tried. Luckily he knew better than to throw a tantrum, but he still caused tremors by accident when he got too excited.

“It’s okay, boys,” Rone said, kneeling beside their fallen logs. “I’ll help you rebuild.”

Amara’s heart swelled for her mate. Rone was always so thoughtful, so involved in their care, and such a wonderful father.

She thought once again about the Spiritcallers and how their days on earth were numbered. She chided herself for thinking negative thoughts when Luc was on